


Obsessions

by DisasterStraight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Hook-Up, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Not that smutty :(, Prostitution, Rough Sex, vague smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 19:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterStraight/pseuds/DisasterStraight
Summary: Two soiled souls, no reason to stay together in the daylight. Yet here you are. Maybe two wrongs do make a right.In laymen's terms: Reader is a hooker and Demon!Dean solicits them.





	Obsessions

**Author's Note:**

> buh huh huh here's hoping the prose makes up for the totally fucked story structure or lack there of. I meant for it to be a series but I don't think I've got the steam for that so I'll mark it as a standalone
> 
> There is sex in this trash fire, but it's in the vaguest possible terms so I'm not tagging it smut. It's not sexy, ya know??

Not all beginnings are innocent. You--who you are now--began in the heat. The steam of bodies swirling together, slick and unforgiving. Thinking back to those days, you didn’t know whether to smile or grimace. It was a choice you’d made, no one had forced you. At some point, though, your choice turned sour. Your choosing took you to unsavory places. It took you here, smoking outside of a crummy motel, barely enough money to rent a room or eat in the morning, but not both.

The chill nipped at your ankles like yappy dog, never letting you forget that it was there. You pulled your jacket closer around you, wishing you’d gotten one last client to you could buy dinner. 

As if answering a prayer, a man appeared from the dark. He had the slouch of a drunk man, with all the confidence in his shoulders to match. As he came into the light of the motel you could see that he was handsome, too, but it was something else that sparked your interest.

For the barest moment your eyes met, and the chill sank into your chest. The heat in your stomach leached away, as if the man taken it for himself with just a glance. You had the sensation that you’d looked into the eyes of an animal, that you’d become prey. It should have been an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn’t. It only made you want to take your heat back, whatever that took.

“Hey there,” you said, voice low, lashes batting away smoke from your cigarette. He turned from his door, key in hand, and eyed you. You shifted your stance, your back as relaxed and your chest as pronounced as you could make them without giving away the game. 

“Hey,” he said. His voice was gravelly. You wondered if he smoked. 

“I’m hoping you can help me out with something,” you said. He raised an eyebrow. “You see, I need someone to share this smoke with.”

“Oh, do you?” He turned himself fully towards you, a snake of a smile coiled around his lips.

“I really do.”

“And why is that?”

“It tastes better when you share, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t smoke.”

“Then maybe we can share something else?” You took a step closer. It was risky to come on this strong this soon, but over the years you’d gotten a fifth sense for men. You read them easily, their wants, their needs, what they would give you for them. This man liked risky. You were a whisper away from his mouth. You could feel the tickle of his breath on your nose. 

“I should let you know, I don’t pay for anything I can get for free.” You grinned. 

“This one’s on the house.”

His lips collided with yours. He was rough, even more than you’d expected. Collide isn’t a strong enough world. Your mouths slammed together, both pressing with the urgency and violence of a bar fight. You were right, he’d been drinking. 

The two of you tumbled into the motel room together. It was gracefully warm inside, and though the bed squeaked as you dropped onto it, it was softer than what you’d slept on the last week.

The bed was the least of your thoughts. The man was practically ripping your clothes off you. He was feverish, digging his nails into whatever flesh he could find. You smiled against his lips in spite of the sting. There was a tear as he snatched your shirt away.

“Watch the uniform, cowboy,” you murmured into his neck.

He only laughed and continued. Hands all over you, up and down. Grabbing and pushing for hours. It was hard to tell at times whether you were fighting or fucking. Hair was pulled, thighs were bitten. You didn’t know whether the man you were with wanted to make you moan or make you bleed. By the end of the night, you’d done both.

Finally the sun crawled out of bed, purple and bruised. You were scratched all over, with sore lips and wobbly legs to match. You didn’t stay next to him when it was done. Some men liked that, the warmth and afterglow. He wasn’t like those men. 

“You’re good,” he said. It wasn’t quite a compliment. 

“Practice, practice, practice,” you said, itching for a smoke. You stretched and shrugged your jacket over your shoulders. It was still cold out there, but it was better to freeze than to outwear your welcome.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, glancing back with a smirk. He was lounging in the bed, chest exposed. He wasn’t bruised at all, as smooth and hard as a suit of armor. You didn’t think you could have hurt him if you’d tried. 

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Wherever.”

“What a coincidence, that’s where I’m going.”

You studied him. He hadn’t been a very forgiving lover, not that you were complaining. It hadn’t been your first time waking up more damaged than when you went to bed, but it had been the first time leaving you wanting to stay. You couldn’t do that, could you? You’d never asked for his name, and he’d never asked for yours.

“You don’t say?”

“I do say.”

“And what exactly are you saying?”

“Want a ride?”

You did. There was a tickle of fear, of course. That voice of reason that told you that no one in their right mind would follow a nameless man they met last night to a second, third, or fourth location. No one in their right mind would follow a man into the yonder after they’d seen the steely flash in his eyes. You knew that he was not a safe man to be with. 

You smiled. “Where’s your car?”

**Author's Note:**

> yes I know that I never actually Say who these people are. honestly they could be two Horny smarmy Bastards in any fandom but here we are I tagged it Supernatural so now I have a hat in that mess of a race


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